If you have ever been over night on a bus you will know what I mean when I say it essential to prepare. No coffee, a light evening meal with a scotch or brandy, and one of those pillows that sits round your neck laying on your shoulders, and any thing else you think you may need. This way the journey can be passed peacefully in dreamland, without discomfort, or interruption.
I was on my way to Scotland, visiting family, and all my preparations had been completed satisfactorily. I had a seat on the nearside, away from the oncoming traffic and its ever changing lights. I was feeling tired and settled, I had my pillow and peace of mind. The engine started, I checked the time, four minutes to departure, I relaxed into my luxury seat.
Then she sat beside me! "Hi" she asked, "is this seat taken?" She was a looker. Blonde, nice tits and a sexy smile. I know that's a lot of detail but I can be excessive at times. I indicated my ascent without a word, none was called for. We began to move away from the stop, slowly and smoothly. She leaned back in her seat and, closing her eyes, let out a deep, satisfied sigh. We began to move.
Her accent said USA or Canada, her presence said I might not be getting enough sleep. I watched her breathing, she had been rushing but was not out of breath. I closed my eyes before I got caught staring at the rise and fall of her breasts. The driver pulled up a gear and we moved out of the terminus and onto the road, still in the city we were slow but on our way.
"Going to sleep," her voice was soft but not a whisper, "me too. Its been a long day." Her words hinted at a story that I really did want to here, but I was too ready for sleep and as the bus picked up a little more speed I began to drift off. I remember her body gently leaning against me, and the driver going up another gear after we made a wide turn.
The next twenty minutes or so was through city streets with its changes of speed and direction. These seemed to gently jostle us closer together so that as I drifted in and out of sleep we seemed closer and more comfortable together. As we reached the M25 the force of the final turn pressed us together, we cruised to full speed, and I finally drifted off to sleep.
When I woke it was still dark, one or two lights were on above some of the other seats, two or three people were snoring, one quite loudly. My new companion was sleeping on my shoulder, her blond hair against the side of my face had the smell of shampoo. She had made herself very comfortable. The engine purred as we sped through the night.
When I say comfortable I should have said familiar. Her left arm was between us, her hand in her lap; but her right hand was tucked between my thighs, her thumb leisurely stroking my balls. I dared not move, but I had to. My growing erection was stuck and trying to bend in the middle, in spite of everything else, the pain of it was the center of my focus.
I tried to get one hand under the waistband to straighten things out that way, but I couldn't. I didn't want to stand up and disturb my companion, so I unzipped and worked my hand into my underwear and hauled my painful member into a more comfortable position. That accomplished I found that the zipper could no longer be done up, there was just too much in the way.
I settled back to enjoy the sensation of having a beautiful stranger so very close, but the harmony was shattered by the bus which jerked on a fault in the road, this disturbed all the sleepers, the snoring ceased for a while. I held my breath as almost all returned to tranquility again, but the damage was done, I could see, and feel her stirring.
She half lifted her head, then froze as she realized where her hand was. Withdrawing it she said, "Oh I'm so sorry, I must have thought you were my husband in my sleep." The explanation was plausible but superfluous. "How long have we been like this?" She was really asking how long I had been awake, and if anything else had happened.
"I have only been awake a few minutes myself," was all the answer I could give.
"Long enough to try to get it out," she observed, indicating my unfastened zipper.
"I had to rearrange things before it bent in half, it was getting very painful," I explained apologetically.
She giggled, "I believe you." What could I say?
There was a long pause, neither of us spoke or moved. Her right hand stayed on my thigh just above the knee, her fingers twitched almost imperceptibly. After looking me in the eye and then back to the bulge through my opened fly she very quietly asked, "Since you have half the job done, can I see it? You're not shy are you?"
Looking back I can't believe how long I hesitated before unbuttoning, it must have been two, perhaps three seconds! "Help yourself," I offered.Tentative, delicate fingers plucked at the waistband of my underwear, lifting it and revealing about one third of a very erect cock. Any sight or sounds around me were lost, all I heard was the intake of her breath, all I saw was her hands wrestling my clothing down to my thighs.
My erect cock stood to attention, it would have saluted if able. Delicate finger-tips touched, squeezed, and stroked. Then my balls were gently grasped and delicately rolled through her fingers. This teasing lasted many minutes, and was exquisite agony. Not a word was spoken, but her smile, as she looked up at me two or three times, said a book full.
Eventually she stopped and moved back in her seat. I was expecting to have to tell her I was going to the bathroom, so I could finish what she had started, but no. Leaning forward she kissed the tip of my shaft, and with more grace than I thought possible, allowed her lips to part accepting my shaft deep into her mouth.
I was awestruck by how naturally and easily her head moved. Rhythmically, like some beautiful nineteenth centaury engineering marvel, but not mechanically, an artist was performing to an audience of one. Her lips, her tongue, her mouth to the back of her throat, the hollow in her cheeks; an orchestra playing on me, to me, and for me.
Did anyone know how wonderful my world was at that moment? I hoped not, but that did not stop me wanting to shout out my happiness and pleasure! To moan, to gasp and sigh, and all the things I would have done in private. Then, I could hardly believe my eyes or senses, pushing further than before she had me into her throat! There is a first time for everything and I was no-longer a virgin.
The sight and the sensation was too much for me, after repeating this several more times it became the final act in her stunning opera. I came in a rush and she held me deep inside her, as long as she could. I felt the contractions of her throat as she swallowed, her tongue lick as she caught her breath, and I saw her smile as more trickled from the side of her mouth.
Looking me directly in the eyes she recovered every drop, swallowing it in an extravagant display, before returning to the task of licking me clean. Sitting up she licked one finger and asked, "Was that good for you?"
I shook my head gravely, "No, not good, I couldn't in all honesty say that was good." I tried to keep as straight an expression as I could. "That was probably the most pleasurable, the absolutely best few minutes of my entire life!" As my erection diminished I was able to do up my zipper. "Good then," she grinned.
I shook my head and heaved an enormous sigh. A grin spread across my face which felt like it would take a week or more to remove. "You sit here," I indicated my seat." I'll be right back, and I'll have something for you." Looking quizzical she asked, "Something else?" I laughed, "Something for you," I replied.
As I walked to the rear, the engine noise was more apparent, and I was reassured that everyone seemed well asleep. Disappointingly the water with which I washed my hands was cold, I never feel cold water is quite good enough, and I wanted warm hands for the task ahead.
On my return she was seated by the window. As I sat beside her she opened her left hand displaying a screwed up pair of panties. "These are for you," she hissed in a stage whisper, then closing her hand again added, "If you are any good." I grinned back at her explaining, "This is something told to me by a house-mate many years ago. It works most of the time, but not always."
"He was an expert was he?" There was a note of the skeptic in her voice. "She was a lesbian," I replied, adding for the sake of humor and accuracy, "And for all I know still is." I turned to face her placing my right hand on her knee, slowly sliding it under the hem of her dress. I traced up and down the smooth skin of her thighs without getting too close to the place where her panties had been.
"Does this help?" She offered raising the hem to her waste. "Thank you," I replied. "You're welcome," was her automatic response, and we both giggled. There were high expectations here, no panties I expected, but sitting on a hand towel was a surprise! Obviously a girl scout. "If you're as good as you say you are, we'll need this," she assured me.
Always up for a challenge I slid my palm along her smooth thigh until I just touched her pussy lips. As I pressed, her legs swung open like automatic doors, her right leg resting over my lap and the left secured by her hand, the heel on the edge of the seat."Let's see this trick then," she challenged. "Give it the works!" She turned to me in the seat and looked down expectantly.
I started moving my fingertips, spreading her moistness along the length of her pouting lips. Not pressing at all, just smoothing regularly, almost hypnotically. I rested the weight of my arm on her inner thigh, the secret is not to hurry but unless you are totally supported, the ache can make it impossible to continue long enough.
My subject relaxed, closed her eyes and settled into the corner, preparing to enjoy herself. She released her left leg and allowed it to fall gently over the edge of the seat until her foot rested on the floor. I continued stroking her lips, avoiding her clit, and she began breathing deeper and regularly. The sounds from the bus, and the other passengers were a background drone, continuous and unchanging.
Clearly visible, her juices oozed and glistened. I would have loved to lap at them, get my tongue in between those luscious lips, but I could not, I was on a different course. I continued running one finger between her luscious lips, from top to bottom, without touching her clit. At the same time her hips began to move to the same slow steady rhythm.
As her moans became audible I judged it to be time to go on to the next stage, I slowly slid one finger inside her. To the same slow rhythm I finger fucked her, first with one, then two. Now her clit got some attention, not rubbing, just gentle pressure from my thumb. As I moved my fingers in and out I was looking for a reaction, this would tell me I had found the spot.
I hooked my fingers, I straightened them, I searched left and right until suddenly her eyes opened and she grasped my wrist in a grip like iron. Staring me straight in the eyes she gasped, "What is that?" I could not move my hand but it did not matter. Now I stroked the area with the tip of my middle finger, I could only just reach but that was enough.
As her climax steadily built I eased the hood over her clit back, exposing her little keg of dynamite. How I longed to take it in my mouth and softly nibble it with my teeth while sucking and licking her. All of a sudden she released my wrist and clamped her hand over her mouth, trying to suppress the sound of her impending eruption.
Now was the time, and as the song said "I stiffened my thumb, and applied rotation on her sugar plum!" I reached as far inside her as I could and raked the tip (not the nail) hard over her pleasure zone, and circled her clit briskly, but gently. Instantly her face raced towards me, I have never been so passionately, almost violently, kissed by someone, or had them moaning loudly into my mouth.
I couldn't let her go, there was too much unfinished pleasure to be drawn from her, but her arms closed round my neck and clamped themselves there. Her tongue was trying to make me throat it; her arms were strangling me; her right leg was pressing down so hard it was cutting the blood supply to my feet; and her voice was attempting to deafen me from the inside!
Apart from that all was well, and the rise and fall of her orgasmic pleasure was almost as satisfying for me as for her. As the hurricane in her died down, her limp body collapsed, exhausted back onto the seat. She had just enough energy left to hold up one hand, opening it to reveal her panties. "Yours I think," she grinned, offering them to me. I took my prize with much pleasure.
I suggested we sleep as soon as she had recovered sufficiently. I put my arm around her and she snuggled against me. The last thing I remember, as I drifted off to sleep again, was her hand slipping between my thighs and her thumb gently stroking my balls.
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bix
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